MGS: reVision
by BorderFan1234
Summary: My take on writing an entirely new MGS 5, one about Big Boss. Will start very similar to MGSV, but the story goes on in an AU where MGSV didn't happen. Some characters like Quiet or skull unit will not appear while others like kaz, ocelot, hal, and skullface will. I also might dial back some of the technology and supernatural elements though not by much.
1. Chapter 1: He has come to

**Author's Note: The beginning will play out very similar to MGSV, but I plan on diverging from the story from there, what I plan on doing is a re-imagining of MGSV as a story about Big Boss. So this story goes on the assumption that MGSV did not happen, there will be no Venom snake or Quiet, but there will be young sniper wolf and Eli, along with some other characters and whatnot. I Hope you like it!**

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Chapter 1

He awoke in pieces. Opening his eyes slowly, he felt the unfamiliar sting of sunlight on his sensitive pupils; it was the only sensation he was aware of. Still processing the fact he was awake, the only thing he saw in the blurry vision of his good eye was a set of spinning blades. The helicopter, oh god what happened?

Like waking from a nightmare, he tried to jolt his body up from the bed he could now feel himself lying on. But he did not move. He listened to his panicked heartbeat grow louder and faster while memories of battle and death rushed back into his empty mind. By now he could hear the quiet hum of what he finally recognized as a ceiling fan, and soon the sound of a nearby radio reached his ears.

 _We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when..._

The soothing music got louder, whoever was carrying the radio was coming closer. He closed his eyes nearly all the way; years of training told him to be cautious, he wasn't necessarily among friends. He pretended to sleep while spying on the approaching nurse.

 _Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend..._

The nurse put the radio on the desk next to him.

 _Which came as some surprise, I spoke into his eyes I thought you died alone, a long long time ago..._

She went about her work with the carefree-ness of someone unsupervised. Chewing gum or tobacco, she had the otherwise blank expression of someone working on autopilot, simply going through the motions as she changed his sheets and checked his condition.

 _Oh no, not me I never lost control..._

When she went to move a flower arrangement he tested the limits of his frozen neck muscles and turned his head to the side. Sure enough she didn't even notice. He saw the familiar red cross patch on her sleeve and felt relieved. His enemies were not the type to bother with such trivialities. Chances were good she didn't even know who he was. As he prepared to make himself known he realized he faced a new problem: how to attract the attention of such a dispassionate nurse.

 _You're face... to face... With The Man Who Sold The World..._

He waited, gathered his strength, and when she finally glanced at him he pulled his head up. Hearing her surprised shriek he dropped back onto the pillow. He had no energy left.

 _I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home..._

The tip tap of her running down the hall gave him an amused sense of accomplishment. Kept you waiting huh?

But his cheerful mood did not last. He wondered how long he had slumbered.

 _I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed..._

Mental and physical exhaustion overtook him and he felt the squeezing embrace of unconsciousness once more.

 _I gazed a gazely stare... At all the millions here... We must have died alone, a long long time ago..._

The music faded in and out while his sight dimmed. But he could now see clearly the vision of mother-base in flames. A doctor pried open his right eye.

A cry of rage was trapped in his throat, it seared his flesh from inside with twice the intensity of a half-remembered explosion. For now his only outlet was the jerking of eyeballs and tensing of muscles as he rebelled against his cage. He wanted to scream at the world he was not dead, that it had failed to kill him.

 _Who knows? not me, we never lost control..._

And as he drifted unwillingly back to sleep only one thing was on his restless mind. Revenge.

 _You're face... to face... With the Man who Sold the World_


	2. Chapter 2: XOF

**Author's note: I'm trying a new approach of shorter but more frequent updates, so bear with me on this. I hope you like it.**

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Chapter 2

Right now, what Snake wanted more than anything in the world was a cigar. He was finally well enough to sit, but not to speak, so he did his best to pantomime his desire for a cigar to the nurses. They deliberately ignored him, taunted him with the scent of cheap cigarettes still on them from recent smoke breaks. It was a small comfort in a cruel world that his nose for fine tobacco was still intact. Nine years of hibernation had done a number on his senses; The lights were too bright, the sounds were too loud, the hospital food actually tasted good.

If he behaved himself the nurses would bring him newspapers to read. But what he really wanted was a history book on the last nine years. From what he could piece together from headlines, the focus had shifted from Central America to the Middle East. Iran and Iraq were at war, the Soviets had invaded Afghanistan, and beyond a shadow of a doubt the United States was involved behind the scenes. The proxy war between East and West, the bloody golden goose that fed his Militaires Sans Frontières, he had left it unattended for nine years only to return and find it fatter and still laying. He wasn't surprised. If his coma had lasted twenty years he still wouldn't be surprised; different scenery, same old shit. How long can nuclear deterrence keep the inevitable at bay? World war two was fought with guns, world war three will be fought with nukes, and world war four will be fought with sticks. Peace was dead, blown to bits by people like him.

He closed the newspaper and took a deep breath.

"You alright Ahab?"

Snake turned to face the "patient" on his left. He willed his vocal chords to speak. "Fine." His voice was hoarse and soft, he was a stranger to his own ears.

The heavily bandaged patient showed off a wide smile, the only part of him besides his right eye that wasn't covered in bandages. "I haven't heard that voice in ages, welcome back Bos-"

"Ishmael," said Snake, reminding Alligator of their covers. But he was moved by his bodyguard's enthusiasm, even after all these years, even after the demise of MSF, the man was still loyal to his Big Boss.

"Sorry, er, welcome back, Ahab," the man scratched his head, no doubt it was itchy after the plastic surgery.

Snake didn't see a need for a body double, but the operation had been carried out while he was comatose. He wondered if eventually they would fit Alligator with a horn as well. He reached up and touched the black spike sticking out of his forehead above his right eyebrow. It was too dangerous to remove the spike, it was firmly lodged in his skull, but medical technology would one day advance to the point where the procedure would be possible the doctor had assured him. He hadn't noticed any adverse effects on his motor skills yet, though he wondered if his vivid nightmares were related to the horn.

He admired his bandaged face in the bedside mirror; he looked like a demon. How fitting.

The nurse had barely pushed her trolley into their room when Alligator asked, "Hey, miss? Can you open the window? It's too hot in here."

"Still not used to Cyprus huh?" teased the nurse as she slid open the window.

"Guess not," answered Alligator cheerfully. "Hey I was wondering-"

But what Alligator was wondering would have to wait, his words were cut short by a sound he and Snake knew all too well. Gunfire - automatic - submachine gun - outside but very close. Then came the screams from below, then more gunfire.

"Run, run!" Alligator shouted at the nurse. She ran on two unsteady legs.

"Shit, they've found us." Alligator jumped out of bed and flipped the mattress, revealing a small cache of weapons. "Code red, code red, will attempt to rendezvous at point alpha," whispered Alligator into a small handset, while loading a SMG and handgun.

"They?" asked Snake. But he already knew the answer. It was the same name that haunted him at night, the same name that pounded a steady drum beat of war in his head right now. He barely heard Alligator over the chaos.

"XOF."


End file.
